


Of Clocks and Confessions

by katsukii



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: M/M, Rarepair, Wow, character mindset, drabble af, i don't think this even counts as a fic hHHHH i'm sorry, i wrote this at like 3am okay don't @ me, jewelshipping - Freeform, like????, or soft, p much just some poetic bs, see yall at my funeral, that's not gay at all, this is probably the softest thing i've ever written, wow yeah u just go and compare that boi to all the good things in the world
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-15
Updated: 2018-06-15
Packaged: 2019-05-23 18:37:55
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 513
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14939691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katsukii/pseuds/katsukii
Summary: Saying "I love you" is never as easy as it seems. His mind is nothing short of a whirlwind as he struggles to piece together those three simple, impossible words. Just a poetic rarepair drabble.





	Of Clocks and Confessions

Silence ticks down on a clock, seconds skidding into oblivion, minutes balancing on a thin wire above a ravine. The hands on the clock twist together, intertwined. They tick in unison--three, two. Blinking. Breathing.

He stills his breath as the clock winds down, entrapped by the song of the silence. Coerced into the hymn, he too falls mute--or else the world falls on deaf ears in unison, ignorant to his utterances. His face twists, an unreadable mien; somber, pensive, entranced. Thoughts roll off his tongue in hushed waves, gentle, washing out to diamond shores before dispersing into rose blossoms--or are they hydrangeas, he wonders, whose blushing petals unfurl feverishly? He prefers the hydrangeas, he tells himself. The hydrangeas.

Somewhere in paradise a shy tide could sweep him off his feet, curl around his waist, drown him in bliss; a shy tide could lift him from the dunes, kiss the tears from his eyes. But the ticking of the clock thunders in his head and he steals away from hope, heart gnawed away by fear of the day when  _ “forevermore”  _ becomes  _ “nevermore.”  _ There is only one paradise on earth, he reminds himself, only one. Now and until time closes its gates, there will only be one paradise. It is not a shimmering shoreline or a crystal sea; it is not a cloudless sky or a vivid sunset; it is not a rainstorm on a summer night, nor is it the blooming of sakura trees in spring. It is turquoise. Simply that:  _ turquoise.  _

Green and blue, blue and green; it is the color of his hair and his eyes and his beautiful, unimaginable soul. It is the color of his irises that could chase away the trepidation in his melancholy heart, if only he is willing to gaze into them.

All it takes is a glance. One look, one breath, one tick. One step to leave the wire and plunge into the ravine. One flower to bloom in his barren heart. One glance to fall in love. 

So he closes his eyes. But when he finds it is not tides that encircle his waist but the arms of his beloved, he feels a shaky breath pass from his lungs and his eyelashes flutter. Expelling that sigh, he becomes weightless, rising but also falling--falling in love, falling in irreversible, unthinkable love.  _ Damn it.  _ He doesn’t like being picked up; this time it is he who mimics a garden, blushing the red of azaleas.  _ Embarrassing. _

A giggle falls soft on his ears like a timid snowflake, and he can’t shake off the beautiful melody it carries. His eyebrows twitch, nose scrunches at the bridge.

At last he opens his eyes. Obsidian on emerald. His gaze mollifies, a hesitant flicker of admiration sparking up in the coal black nothingness.

His lips curl into a smile, mirroring the one that has so irreversibly captivated him. A shy phrase hovers in his mind, on his tongue, and he tips his head in to whisper, just barely audible amidst the rushing of his heart,

 

_ “I love you.” _


End file.
